The Five Addictions of Clara Oswald
by taylorbrown2397
Summary: Clara Oswald: school teacher, Doctor's companion, terribly self destructive. These are her five addictions. If you'd like me to expand on any of the scenes, let me know in the reviews!


1) Their first adventure after the confusing reunion that was Christmas involved the theft of a diamond, a laser beam and, as per usual, a lot of running. Grabbed from behind, she was pulled backwards and out of the Doctor's hand.

"Clara!" He yelled, as the Sultaran teleported her away, to what looked like an armoury. Guns, ammo, a giant sword… And in the centre of the room, the laser beam.

"You will tell us the location of the diamond." Said one of the dozen aliens on the ship. He jabbed her in the chest with his gun.

"What diamond?" She replied, heart pounding away in her chest. "Last I checked, there was more than one."

"There is a compound of minerals specific to the Hope Diamond that can allow a specific targeting focus."

"To do what, exactly? Is this an invasion?" The Sultarans around her laughed deeply.

"Target practice."

"I'm afraid that the diamond is already in the possession of someone far more important than you." Clara said quickly. "And you'll have an entire country to fight if you attack her."

"We do not fear Earthlings. Who has the diamond?"

"The Queen of England."

It was only a small lie, Clara reasoned, giving the aliens the location of U.N.I.T HQ – under the guise of the Queen living there – and led them into the Doctor's waiting arms. And really, his face when the spaceship pulled up outside the building, only to have U.N.I.T storm inside, guns blazing, was entirely worth it.

2) Soft skin, softer lips and breathy sighs were kept Clara Oswald returning to 19th Century Bath. Missy was resolute in her refusal to lend the teacher her Vortex Manipulator, until Clara promised her alone time of her own. But, after the last escapade, the Doctor was adamant that Clara was never going back.

Jane Austen had cleared one weekend every month for Clara, and there was nothing that would stop Clara from turning up. A picnic in the park, poetry readings, theatre trips…Jane showed her all that Bath had to offer. And in the evenings, she would sit and listen to Jane hesitantly read her latest chapters, shyly asking for feedback and criticism, to which she would smile and note around the pages. Then Clara would kiss her sweetly, and remind Jane that there was more to love than the grand gestures she often wrote about, and Jane would laugh and kiss her again.

3) Sometimes Clara regrets making promises. To the Doctor, to colleagues at work, to her family. But more than any and all off those, she regrets making promises to Missy. She's never known anyone like her; that woman could tear her apart and scatter her across time and space – Clara doesn't doubt that she would,too – and the teacher would still dutifully pull herself together again to let the time lady start over again.

Missy's hold on her is something that fills her with shame and loathing, even as she begs the the older woman to go faster, clutching desperately at her back in an attempt to to ground herself. Missy brings her gifts sometimes, flowers, bits of meteors, that kind of thing. Clara isn't exactly one to take this lying down, and gives as good as she gets.. She holds Missy to promises of her own and when they stumble, legs shaky, red faced and giggling, back into the control room, the Doctor can't decide whether to scold or laugh at their expense.

4) There was something wrong with Samantha. Clara could tell from the sudden shyness, a drastic haircut, and she was so much paler than before the half term. Something immense had changed in a week. As her teacher, it was Clara's job to find out what.

She began by asking her friends.

"Hey, Lonnie? Can I talk with you for a moment?" She asked, barely catching the girl on her way outside for break.

"Sure, Miss." The girl replied hesitantly.

"First of all, this stays strictly between us. No gossiping to any of the other students, okay?" Clara felt compelled to say. Lonnie nodded slowly. She looked worried.

"Is Sam okay?" Lonnie frowned for a moment, and Clara clarified: "Has she mentioned anything that might be worrying her? I know you two are close."

"No…no, she hasn't said anything. But she doesn't come out to play very much anymore. I think she might be ill." Clara nodded absently, before smiling at Lonnie.

"Okay then. I'm sure I'm just overly concerned. You can go and play now." Lonnie ran to join her friends, and Clara resolved that, after sending Samantha to the school nurse, she'd let the worry fade.

But Samantha grew worse. Despite the nurse saying that she was fit as a fiddle, Sam was now speaking only to answer direct questions, she sat by herself at break times and - Clara had learned from their MTA - she was refusing to eat. During their last lesson on Friday, as she wandered around to help her students with their artwork for the new display, she left a piece of paper on Sam's desk, asking her to wait behind at the end of the day. Clara caught the young girl's eye, and Sam nodded ever so slightly before getting back to her sticking.

"Miss Oswald, Michael's copying me." Called Andrew.

"Am not!" Came an indignant reply. Clara sighed, and hurried over to sort out the squabbling twins. Her attention was grabbed for the rest of the lesson by questions, arguments, and a wonder conversation about why Louis had forgotten his English homework. Again. By the end of the hour, as she sent them all off, she was about ready to get home and sink into a hot bath.

Then she remembered the small girl sitting in the back row. Sam sat, silently packing her back as slowly as she could, probably hoping to leave as quickly as possible. Clara approached her, and sat down opposite.

"You aren't in trouble." She said immediately, and Sam relaxed slightly. "But we do need to have a chat. Are you being picked up today?" Sam shook her head.

"Walking." She mumbled. Clara nodded.

"Are you in a rush to go home?" The girl shrugged. "Okay then. Sam. This is supposed to be a conversation. Not a telling off. I need you to talk to me."

"Sorry Miss." Clare noted, for the first time, that Sam wasn't making eye contact.

"What's wrong, Sam?" She looked up then, and frowned. "I know you guys think us teachers don't do anything except teach, but we care about all our students. Including you." Clara smiled slightly. Sam's eyes fell back to the desk.

"I don't want to talk about it." She mumbled, and Clara sighed.

"Well, I can't force you. But standard procedure here is to notify your parents that- " Sam's head whipped up quickly, and Clara could see something wild and dark in her eyes.

"No." She whispered, frozen. Clara felt her heart break; this was much more serious than she had imagined.

"Then I need you to talk to me. Please." She said quietly, patting the girl's hand gently. Sam looked away again.

"Did you…when you were my age, did you ever feel…different?" She asked in a small voice. Clara considered her options for a moment, before deciding on as much honesty as she could.

"Yes." She replied, just as softly. "And I felt like I couldn't talk to anyone about it either." Sam met her gaze with tears in her eyes. "How do you feel different, Sam?"

"I can't explain exactly. I don't have words." Clara nodded.

"I understand. It took me years to explain how I felt as well. But I learned how. It just takes some practise."

"What if there aren't words? What if I'm the first to be this weird?"

"I can promise you that you won't be. I thought I was as well. But then I met some amazing people who were like me." Sam didn't respond, and Clara's heart sank. She wasn't making any headway.

"Sam?" Sam looked up again. "Would it help if I told you a story. About how I got through it?" She paused for a moment, and nodded.

"Yes please." Clara hesitated for a second.

"Do you know what bisexual means?" Sam shook her head. "Well, basically it means that I fancy girls as well as boys." She paused, hoping for any kind of illumination on Sam's face, hoping that this could be as simple as confusion over a gay crush, but there was nothing in Sam's eyes.

"Okay." She said instead, shrugging. Clara stood up and began pacing around the room.

"I didn't know this was possible for a long time. There was a boy I liked, Danny, and he liked me, and I guess you could say he was my boyfriend." Despite the seriousness of the conversation, Sam winced a little, and Clara smiled. No matter the age, it would always be weird to hear about a teachers love life. "At the time, my best friend was called Nina. And, though I really liked Danny, I wanted to hold hands, cuddle, and kiss Nina as well. I felt guilty, and this turned into anger when they were both around. I didn't know what to do." Sam was staring at her, frowning, like something didn't sound right.

"What helped you?"

"I found a youth group for children like me. Who were…a bit different. It's called an LGBT youth group." Sam thought this over.

"What do the letters stand for?" Clara smiled every so slightly.

"Lesbian - that means girls who only fancy other girls. Gay - boys who fancy boys. Bisexual - like me, and transgender - people who are born as one gender, but who feel like another." Clara heard a sharp intake of breath. They seemed to have reached the issue. "That's…is that possible?" Sam asked breathlessly.

"Oh yes." Clara smiled "In fact, one of the girls I've dated was born a boy." She sat down next to Sam. "Do you think you might be a boy?" Sam closed her eyes, bowed her head, and nodded. "Is that why you've been so different in school recently?" Another, slower, nod. "Why can't I talk to your parents?"

"When Lonnie cut my hair - I asked her to - they…the got so mad." A sob escaped Sam, and Clara instinctively her arms around her…him. "They stopped me from going out, and yelled at me, and asked if I wanted to look like a boy. Dad sent me to my room and kept me there when I said yes." "Oh…sweetheart…" Clara murmured, dabbing Sam's eyes with some tissue they used for Art. "My parents weren't…thrilled either. My mum wouldn't look me in the eye. But, eventually, they came around."

"W-when?" Sam stuttered.

"When they realised how unhappy they were making me. You parents do love you, but this is a lot of news for them to take in. It may be better to not tell them for a while, and let them adjust to your haircut and new style of dress first." She patted Sam on the head, flattening the green beanie. Sam gave her a watery smile, and Clare returned it.

"For now, this will be our secret. You're welcome to come and talk to me any time you need me; I'll always be here. I don't have to tell anyone what you've told me, but whilst we're alone, I will treat you like the boy you are. Including any new name you'd like me to use, okay?" Sam nodded.

"Toby." He mumbled through his tears. "I like Toby." Clara wiped at his cheeks once more, dabbing away at the last trace of tears.

"Toby it is."

5) Her birthday - 23rd November – had been forgotten by the Doctor for 2 years already. She had no reason to suspect that he'd remember this time. After their last stunt, which ended in a broken leg and a really nasty gash down her right arm, had forced her to take time off work, she was going mad from the boredom. So, really, it would be enough of a present to have him show up. She didn't need him to remember.

When he arrived, bursting into her bedroom like a whirlwind, wearing half a jacket and saliva covered black jeans, she threw herself at him. He picked her up when she stumbled and, grabbing her crutches, took her into the TARDIS whilst babbling something about a surprise. Her eyes widened.

"What kind of surprise?" He set her down on the steps in the control room and frowned.

"What do you mean, what kind of surprise? Your birthday of course." She raised an eyebrow at him. "What? It is today, right?"

"Yes." She said slowly. "But you've missed the others, so I wasn't expecting anything different this year." He looked away bash fully, and realisation dawned on her.

"Jane told you, didn't she?" He hesitated, then nodded. "You don't have to do something because you feel you should. It kinda feels pointless that way."

"What would you rather do?" He asked sheepishly. Clara thought for a moment, plonking down on the steps of the TARDIS gracelessly, and smiled up at him.

"Show me something amazing." She murmured. His eyes closed and his smile was soft, remembering back to the adventure that had started it all.

"Yes, ma'am." He said, and whirled back to the control panel eagerly. She wondered, briefly, how long it had been for him since their last adventure. She wondered if he ever noticed the time passing.


End file.
